


Queen of the Living, Queen of the Dead

by sasstasticmad



Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Lore Olympus (Webcomic)
Genre: Affairs, BAMF Persephone (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Dysfunctional Relationships, Emotional Constipation, F/M, Hera Ships It, Hurt/Comfort, Infidelity, Kitchen Sex, Loss of Virginity, Matchmaking, Past Relationship(s), Smoking, a pygmalion reference if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-26 12:29:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20930246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sasstasticmad/pseuds/sasstasticmad
Summary: Aidoneus is Hera's first.He is careful. Gentle. Everything the first should be.(Eventual Hades x Persephone. Inspired by Episode 78)





	Queen of the Living, Queen of the Dead

**Author's Note:**

> Any and all feedback is appreciated <3 
> 
> Bug me on tumblr-mygrandmathinksimsassy. I'm already coming up with ideas for more Hades/Persephone-centric works.

Aidoneus is the first.

\--

He is careful. Gentle.

Everything the first should be.

They come together in the darkness; their fingers intertwined as they tread this strange, new ground.

When it is done, Aidoneus breathes her name like a whisper.

The air is quiet and Hera holds him close to her breast.

\--

The next morning, Zeus asks for her hand.

\--

She’s surprised he bothers with asking. Zeus isn’t really the asking type.

The conquering hero. The scourge of Cronus.

Brash and brave. Everything a King should be.

But he gets on his knees for her. Tells her she is the most beautiful goddess the world has ever seen.

_The pantheon is only a half dozen strong. She knows this, but his silver tongue goes straight to her head._

Hera makes him wait for her answer

Zeus agrees even if he doesn’t understand her hesitation.

Her suitor is not a patient man

\--

He isn’t the only one in need of a wife.

The newly crowned King of the Dead will need someone to ease his burden. Mortals are always dying. His work will never be done.

Hades, he is called Hades now, has left Olympus. To start a new life hidden beneath the soil.

Trapped in the cold and dark for all eternity.

She doesn’t need the sight to see the future that awaits her there.

A goddess of marriage sharing her husband’s tomb. A goddess of family with nobody to talk to but the shades.

Hades never asks, but there is no need. 

\--

She marries Zeus.

She chooses the sun.

\--

It is easy to love Zeus. Her strong, handsome husband with the cosmos on a string.

The early days are sweet.

They are the guests of honor at every party, the belles of every ball. The mortals sing their praises and she is strong, getting stronger every time a candle is lit in prayer.

The nights are just as bright.

They christen every room, every corner of Olympus. He is a skilled lover, her clever husband. He conquers her just like everything else.

His silver tongue never stills and she is drunk on being his.

His wife. His lover. His queen.

They have two sons, one right after the other.

Ares. Her brave fighter.

Hephaestus. Her gentle soul.

There will be daughters too. She’s seen them in her visions.

She is happy.

The world is hers.

\--

Her husband is unfaithful. 

\--

There is a child. A mortal child.

Her husband’s progeny tainting the shores of Crete.

She screams at him and he roars at her. He is a monster now, as cruel as he is charismatic. Worse than any titan. Gallivanting across the known world, sticking his cock in anything that moves.

The child isn’t the first, he says. Only the first mortal he forgot to hide.

He leaves her crying in the gardens and it’s like he swallowed her whole.

\--

Hera descends to the underworld.

\--

The ichor freezes in her veins and she remembers that all of this could have been hers.

The kingdom of the dead. A world of silence and a life unseen.

She would have died long ago if this had been the life she chose. She is too weak to be alone.

Hera knocks on the door and a beast answers, howling so loud that Olympus must hear. 

It stares at her through the window.

Three pairs of eyes glowing like flames. Three sets of gnashing teeth ready to bite.

The monster lunges at her through the glass, stopped by a blue hand on the scruff of one of its necks. 

“CERBERUS.”

The beast yelps. 

“BAD DOG!”

That _thing_ isn’t a dog. That thing belongs in Tartarus. 

The monster scampers back into the abyss and Hades opens the front door. 

His hair is shorter than before. It suits him. 

“Wh..what are you doing he-”

He stammers like the old days, back when the world was new.

“-aren’t you going to invite me in?”

He steps aside and her heels clack on marble quicksand. This is dangerous ground they’re covering. It doesn’t matter that they’ve walked here before. 

\--

He is a terrible host. 

\--

She pours her own brandy and lights her own cigar, trying to force some semblance of conversation as she gathers up her nerve.

“You got a dog?”

“I guess,” he shrugs. “Technically, we’re coworkers.”

“I can get you some curtains for the kitchen,” she says. “You might have neighbors one day. Do you want them looking in?”

“If I wanted curtains, I would have curtains.”

That is all he says about it. They stand in silence and she wonders why she came.

_Zeus never hides what he’s thinking. He practically monologues during sex._

But this isn’t about her husband.

This is about her. 

And Hades. To a lesser extent.

He smokes a pipe like the old man he’s always been and she watches him take a drag.

He has strong hands. Thick fingers. She remembers all too well what those fingers can do. 

A thrill runs through her as she takes his face between her hands. She kisses him and he tastes exactly like before.

It’s been centuries since their first embrace yet he is always Aidoneus and she is the girl who tends his wounds.

He breaks the kiss, but he doesn’t pull away. Their foreheads are pressed together, close enough to share a breath.

“What about Zeus?”

He is nineteen and terrified.

Her poor, lost Aidoneus.

“What about him?”

She leans in again. He kisses back. 

There is a desperation in the way he holds her. Centuries of restraint unspooling in a crimson thread.

He takes her on the kitchen table. He still says her name when he comes.

\--

They share a cigarette on the kitchen floor. 

Her head rests on his shoulder and they must make quite the sight. 

Gold and Blue. Sun and Sky.

They look good together. 

_For a time, she was the most beautiful goddess ever beheld by the cosmos. Still is to the most enlightened mortals. She would look good with anyone. _

Hades lets the ash build up until it’s about to crumble, breathing only when he must.

She doesn’t feel … better. Better wouldn’t mean goosebumps running up and down her arms.

_Better would mean Zeus never strayed. _

But at least she doesn’t feel worse.

“It’s freezing down here.”

“I’ll get you a coat.” Another drag. “For your next visit.”

How dare he plan for a next time. There will never be a next time.

_There will be. She’s already seen it. _

She puts their cigarette out.

“We’re having a dinner party this weekend,” she says. “You should come.”

“I don’t-“

“You’re coming, Hades. You don’t have a choice.”

“I never have a choice, Bunny.”

Hera feels his sigh all the way down to her toes. 

“The boys want to spend time with you.”

She brings his hand to her lips. It’s a different type of kiss than before.

It might even be a kiss that heals. 

“They should know their uncle.”

\--

She breathes easier when she’s back on Olympus. 

\--

Her bedroom is filled with jewels and Zeus is on his knees again, begging to return to the temple of her bed. 

He will never betray her. He says this as he trails kisses up her thighs. He will love her, only her, for the rest of eternity.

She wants to believe him. She doesn’t, she will never believe him ever again, but she wants enough to almost make it true. 

His stupid, silver tongue. He makes her want to play the fool.

\--

Hades is the first one to show up for dinner.

\--

He brings gifts for the children. A wooden sword for Ares. A model train for Hephaestus.

They are getting too old for toys. Ares says so over dessert, he inherited his father’s tact, but her boys aren’t babies anymore. They’re almost men.

One day, she’ll wake up and they’ll stop aging. Their bedrooms will be empty and they’ll leave her all alone.

That’s a problem for another day. She can’t fuck her way out of that.

There is a bracelet for her. Covered in emeralds and amethysts, matching the peacock feathers in her hair.

He doesn’t bring her husband anything and he sulks about it all night. 

Not quite a punishment. But definitely deserved.

\--

It becomes a thing.

Zeus fucks her. 

She fucks Hades.

Never in Olympus. Always in the dark. Just like before.

It’s safe, familiar. 

Hades is the blanket to shelter from her husband’s storm. 

\--

It is a bad idea. A terrible idea.

The worst.

She’s the goddess of marriage for fuck’s sake. The morals seek her guidance on how to be a perfect wife.

The perfect wife endures the bad for the sake of the good. The perfect wife doesn’t suck her brother-in-law’s cock.

There are nights where she feels guilty and nights where she is greedy and days where she feels nothing at all.

\--

Hades deserves more than nothing.

They become friends over the years. Not friends who fuck, but friends who ask about each other’s days. Friends who learn each other’s fears.

Years turn into centuries and their visits are always full clothed.

It’s better this way.

She wants him to be happy. He needs someone to call his own.

\--

Minthe is a terror.

\--

A pointy-eared cretin in a too short dress, desecrating her home with tacky earrings and cloven footsteps. 

Hera could forgive bad taste, but that is the least egregious of Minthe’s sins.

The nymph screams and rants at Hades like she has earned the right. Flirts with the satyrs passing out canapés and leaves Aidoneus out in the cold. 

He should have someone better. 

Someone who loves him the way he deserves. 

_Not her, of course. Definitely not her._

Someone else. Someone strong enough to love the dark the way she never could.

Minthe outstays her welcome. It hurts to bite her tongue, but that’s what Hades asked for. He asks for so little; Hera owes it to him to keep her mouth shut. 

She only promised to try and like the nymph. That doesn’t mean she has to succeed.

If he is happy, she will be happy for him.

Yet his eyes still seem so sad.

\--

Little Kore grows up beautiful.

\--

All pink and ripe and lush. A berry ready to be plucked from the vine.

She is a lovely little thing, pretty in a provincial sort of way. 

Beautiful enough to be part of the family. Not as beautiful as her. 

She’s perfect. 

Hephaestus is too busy managing Pomegranate to court her properly.

Ares is Ares. It’ll be another thousand years before he’s ready to settle down. 

_Hades, on the other hand. _

Persephone stares at his portrait as though one look would breathe life into him. Like that idiot sculptor Aphrodite mentioned at brunch.

Hera might have looked at Zeus like that long, long ago. She can’t remember. Life was simpler at nineteen.

This whole chastity business has Demeter’s green thumb all over it.

Annoying, but easily remedied. 

Hades would never stray, but he should have a wife that warms his bed. 

—

Hera kisses Hades for the last time. 

—

She knows it will be the last time, but it still stings a little when he pulls away. 

He honors vows Persephone has not yet asked him to keep and the torch he carried is snuffed out for good.

He passes the test.

Persephone has chosen well.

\--

Apollo is condemned.

\--

Any sentence is more than she expected, but it isn’t justice. Justice would mean a sickle rending limb from purple limb apart. Justice would wipe his name from mortal memory until they forgot the monster who held the sun.

The tribunal empties into the hallway. You could cut the tension with a scythe. 

Persephone stumbles over her hair, a shroud of brilliant rose. Hades catches her when she falls, cradling her with a lover’s arms.

They are a radiant pair.

Pink and Blue. Love and Sorrow.

It only lasts a moment. They break apart and go their separate ways.

One to the underworld. One to the mortal realm.

Her heart aches for them.

There is a third path to Olympus and she lets her husband take her arm.

\--

Minthe strikes Aidoneus.

\--

The sound echoes down the hallway and the pantheon stops and stares.

She raises her hand again and that is the last thing she does.

Hera blinks and there is a sprig of leaves where a demon used to be.

Persephone hovers in the air. Her eyes glowing red. Her hair filled with thorns.

She is ferocious. Ghastly. Everything a Queen should be.

Hades falls to his knees.

His head is bowed when Persephone returns to the soil. The thorns are gone now and there are pomelias, twinkling like stars, as she holds him in her arms. Persephone speaks to him in the old tongue, whispering his name like the holiest of prayers.

They take shelter in one another. Persephone is brave enough to weather the storm.

\--

The next day, Hades asks for Persephone’s hand.

\--

Demeter rants and rages, but Zeus stands firm.

_Persephone is a woman grown. She is the only one who can speak to her hand._

Her husband isn’t always an idiot. He’s smart enough, at least, to do as she says.

\--

The last of the Kings gets married.

With seven dogs dressed up in bow ties. And a smile in his eyes.

Persephone walks the aisle alone.

— 

She is a perfect Queen of the Dead

Hera is the first to toast her reign.


End file.
